Hello there. Welcome to my little corner of escapism. I make art, write, and occasionally cosplay. My content here is mainly Star Wars -specifically Clones and Mandos and those who love them.
Not everything is here, but I tag my art and writing #ferrule writes and #ferrule does art🤌
This blog is 18+, minors DNI, now git
🌶️= mature content
Writings:
🌶️Saturday’s Child, modern au bad batch OC Althea/Echo 🚧 in progress
🌶️Charity and Decadence, Clone Wars era isekai Earthling reader-turn-OC/Echo and others 🚧 in progress
Choy and Una’s GAR Goth Night Out
🌶️Choy’s GGN Interlude
Contributing writing:
@wings-and-beskargam’s Echaaj’la Mandalorian OC Archer/ Commander Mayday and Earthling OC Choy/ Hexx and Veetch (who are not shipped) 🚧 in progress
🌶️Finally an Echaaj’la smut side quest Hexx/Choy/Veetch
Art:
Star Wars
My first portrait on procreate, Echo lost link😭
Civvie medic pinup
🌶️Clone kinktober, K is for Kisses and Kamas
Charity and Decadence OC Choy illustrations:
🌶️#1
🌶️#2 at the bottom of the text
Chapter 7 scene closeup of Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Rex,
A very self indulgent Cuddling with Echo, I gave Echo a slightly different style of face here
Echo and fireflies for @echos-scomplings art event
A Spicy Choy Latté fun sketch of commander caff with friends
🦉 Owl Squad at their first field mission campfire 🔥 Slowly getting comfortable with each other. Some easier than others 😹
Text: *texting*
Cdr. Eo: Oh... uh-huh... okay... oh, wow... uhm, alright...
Sgt. Sixoh: (This Commander is quite patient. Yet...)
Source: (We need a new medic. This one is broken)
Forest: (Fire is good. Vode are good. Commander is good. Source is about to explode. Perfection)
Voice: (Thanks Maker, I think I love all of those weirdos)
🦉 An actual second writing under the star of "The Source Code" (!!!!!! I WROTE !? maybe because I'm quite released because I managed my qualification tests and now I'm actually able to study communication design at university asap after clinical treatment, words flowed out of my wrist I can't believe it)
... under the cut 👇 Beware, no first language, no beta read! I hope you enjoy though! ✨👀
🦉 The Campfire
Kashyyyk | 21 BBY | First camping outside of the 41st Ranger Platoon base
Clone Medic Text was a nervousness babbler. Just to be fair, he has been actually silent all duty day, focussed and observing their new Commander and her actions. In his opinion, they couldn't have gotten a better deal. She was tough, quite protective and the best – she let them do their job.
Before moving out today, he had double checked his medic field backpack and added some of his own special features to impress and almost made it too late for the call. So he had skipped shaving and hid behind his bucket as long as possible.
Luckily the Commander seemed to be cool and collected, not too stern, not different than on their first mission together, before they were an official unit. Maybe it's just his hopes, but especially after official hours now she was smiling often and was – thankfully – quite a good listener!
Text though, he maybe has never had the chance to indulge rambling about his interests (fauna) in that scale before and maybe never will have. This moment at the campfire will linger in his head and his heart. This was so much better than his escalated downtown adventures in Coruscant!
Her sudden hand on his shoulder was at first a bit unsettling, but he got the hint, calmed down his mood a bit. He was happy with everything right now.
Who could blame him? She was one of the most beautiful nat-borns he ever saw (his trainers on Kamino, some Jedi from the distance, Geonosians and Wookies, some others at 79s) and she hasn't stopped him yet and now she's even laughing!
He could get used to this.
That's my Commander now, he thought, grinning cheekily at her.
If he died tomorrow fulfilling his duty under her command, it would be a kriffing honor.
---
Padawan Commander Eo was nervous now too, because it was the first after official hours outside of the protection of the base. She somehow landed here, alone in the wilderness of Kashyyyk with the 5 clone troopers she initially had chosen out of the locally stationed 41st, just for a single special Jedi Padawan mission. She never thought about seeing them again, even less, that they could've got assigned to her as her own unit – long-termed.
Now she was sitting with the very same clones on some lost crates around a campfire in the small abandoned foothold they headed to camp for the night. This was strange, but in a nice way. Together they already have made themselves a name as a unit, by mere chance.
So those five men are again under her command now. For the first unofficial mission just one week ago, she had chosen them for their specialisations and for somehow standing out of the mass. Outsiders, just like herself, as she struggles with her Padawan training despite being mighty in the Force, allegedly.
If she had known that she would end up stuck together with those men, she maybe would have chosen differently. Or maybe not?
Anyway, at the moment she felt comfortable at the warm campfire, listening to Text's excitement ramble, his familiar deep clone voice full of joyful passion, his eyes sparkling from sharp intelligence, playful- and watchfulness alike and – if she squinted – a glint of madness. No wonder actually.
Eo liked him. She let him talk her ears off, also because kind of positively surprised that such a young clone trooper reached out to her like that.
It warmed her heart, seeing Text revive like this after being all day not only a badass attentive medic, but also a quiet and highly skilled close combat fighter. She badly wants to know how a Gen 3 clone, not older than maybe 8 or 9 years, biologically 16 or 17, could have developed skills like that.
She laughed, as he started to wave with his data pad, already leaning in to explain even more dramatically. Without further thinking about it, she placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him and herself in their shared laughter and tried to save him from himself.
And maybe also a bit herself from him.
Looking into his mirthful eyes and then over the other watching pairs of almost similar looking amber-brown eyes – curious, incredulous, mischievous and amused – Commander Eo realised maybe for the first time, that she might have made a big mistake with her choice of the men.
She could already feel the attachment.
The one thing she shouldn't have felt for them.
She could be a brave, nice, caring and good Commander for them, but according to the Jedi's lessons she absolutely shouldn't feel what she felt now.
And this wasn't even the first time that her heart hurt for those clones.
It wasn't fair, that this talkative clone-teenager looked almost as old as herself and even obviously enjoyed it, flirting with her, similarly like his more shy but mischievous brother Voice. And that one somehow managed to look big, but he was even younger than Text!
It wasn't fair that those intimidating Gen 1 clones, Forest and Source, were clone-biologically 22 years old, but looking 30 or more, just have seen real 11 years of life and most of that not even outside of Kamino. The rest of it basically from one death trap into the next.
It wasn't fair, that her still young Gen 2 Sergeant still emitted fear, when she would only turn into his direction, but then showed to her the stable and seasoned warrior, looking with his wide eyes straight at at some point over her face. She only knew that Sixoh had been thrown from Kamino directly into the Second Battle of Geonosis and then with the rest of Green Company into the dark void, serving on the Tranquility. Kamino and that was his whole life so far.
Padawan Eo knew Master Luminara Unduli and her fellow Padawan Barriss Offee. Whatever horrors Sixoh might have had to face, it couldn't have been them.
Text has calmed down and drew something on his datapad. Eo watched Forest tending the dying campfire. The seasoned clone's face neutral and his eyes on the last flames, the whole man quite a clone-untypical picture of deep thoughts, sitting barefoot in a deep squad like many of the wookies.
Heavy Gunner Voice got up, yawning and called it a night, startling poor skittish Sergeant Sixoh, as he patted on his shoulder from passing by behind him.
Source didn't look up from his datapad as the Sergeant next to him relaxed again with a sigh after Voice' sudden familiar gesture, but the ARC Trooper's facial features relaxed a bit and some of the face lines smoothened in the cold light of his datapad.
Then, without tilting his head or moving his face, he looked up, straight into Eo's eyes, catching her watching him.
The mikkian froze, as she was locked into the most direct and intense stare she received so far from a clone, or even generally.
She blushed like a little girl.
Force, nothing about this was fair.
She shook off her unsettlement, chuckled over her own reaction and held his glance with a smile. She was the Commander and she was in charge, no little girl at all!
Eyes still locked, a hint of a smile played around Source' lips, so small that Eo wasn't sure if he even moved a face muscle.
The mikkian's tendrils coiled slightly. This felt like going into the absolutely wrong direction and sadly it's to her making it good again.
Flirting wasn't "forbidden", but before working together with clone troopers, all of the Jedi, together with the other nat-born GAR Admirals, Lieutenants and else, were basically reminded with cold Kaminoan words, that clones might look and behave like mature humans, but in the end they're trained war machines, the human nature carefully suppressed for their own wellbeing, meaning they had buried wishes and questions that shouldn't be stirred awake.
Not a few Jedi fell their serenity out of their faces for a moment, Eo included. It felt like a nightmare to her.
Dank Farrik. This wasn't just awkward, this was the madness of war. And Eo was even more determined to become the best Commander her new clone trooper squad could have. They deserve as much life as she could provide them under her protection and she can't take that those five living souls, so bright and beautifully complex in the Force suffer, because of her mikkian- or whatever weak struggles, that keep her away from getting knighted.
She must give not less than her very best.
She owes them.
The Commander nods at Source, standing up, trying to look tall and grounded.
"Voice is right, let's get a bunch of sleep. Tomorrow we'll head out at 0900. Goodnight, troopers."
The four remaining clones nodded back and did one of their weird cloned-voices choruses – "Good night, Sir".
She flashed a warm smile to them and turned away.
Entering her tiny Commander tent, her heart felt heavy.
She had to do her meditation before sleeping. Badly.
She had to sort herself properly, reminding herself that she's obligated to protect those brave men.
Also from herself.
🦉 Owl Squad Masterlist 💚
"The Source Code" beautiful readers that showed interest a loo00OOoong time ago 🤩🫶 @dumfanting @peggy7447
Oh man I would have been on pins and needles over something cracking on the floor like that! I’ve never played sabacc, but I’m pretty sure I could figure out how to out cheat those bad shots!
Author Notes: I'm seeing the end in sight. I think this fic will be less than 5 more chapters. I've written about most of the non-physical things I wanted to touch on. So now I think it's time to move Hunter and Wren into a more physical relationship. I will have specific warnings when stuff starts happening, this is just a general heads-up. This chapter was almost twice as long as it is now, so I had to cut it into two. I'll post the next part in the next few days.
I still get embarrassed posting them getting physical. But I really want their relationship to go there, so I'm pushing myself. I hope it's not cringe!
Summary: Set in a modern AU: Wren is a librarian who meets Omega, a twelve-year-old living with her five older brothers. Omega feels Wren and her oldest brother, Hunter, would be good for each other and tries to play matchmaker. Wren's anxiety and shyness make that more difficult than Omega hoped. Wren is based on me and my experiences with anxiety and how it affected my relationship with my husband. This sequel begins in the early days of their relationship. There are still struggles, because her anxiety hasn't magically disappeared. But because of Hunter's patience and Wren's trust, they're able to make it work.
Pairing: Hunter x Female OC
Word Count: 3630
Warnings: Hunter and Wren get physical, but no sex. Heavy kissing and petting. Swearing.
Inspiration: My modern AU was inspired by the amazing Modern Batch AU and Modern Fives AU stories by kaydear (Illyria_Lives) on AO3. Reading those fics was what gave me the courage to write my own. I borrowed some of the family's background from those stories, with the author's permission.
Previous | Next
Patience & Trust Masterlist (the sequel)
Hunter and the Librarian Masterlist (the original)
Dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more
The way Wren viewed Hunter and her relationship with him started to drastically change after that weekend trip to 99's. She felt like this might actually be something that could happen. Something that could last. She was starting to believe Hunter really did care about her enough that he wanted to be with her long-term. She couldn't say "forever" yet, but definitely long-term.
It was mind-boggling to her, because at this point in her life, with her anxieties, she'd practically given up. So, to shift into this mindset, of truly believing Hunter wanted to stay with her, and that he cared about her enough that he didn't want to be with anyone else, made her shake her head sometimes.
But she knew it was true. He was very genuine. There was no reason to doubt him. His family had accepted her, even his father. It took very little time for 99 to adore Wren and be grateful to her for all she'd done for Hunter.
When they returned from their weekend trip, Wren said good-bye to everyone else, giving Omega a warm hug, and stayed in the driveway with Hunter for a few more minutes.
"Thanks again for going with us. It means a lot to me, that you would do that, because I know you were nervous." He said this quietly as he took her hand in his, running his thumb along the back of her hand.
"Thanks again for asking me to go with you. It means more than I can say, that you would ask me to meet your dad." She squeezed his hand.
He leaned forward as she tilted her head the little bit needed to meet him halfway. He felt that kiss through his whole body, and it warmed him. He became so emotional, he had to pull back and take a deep breath.
"Are you okay," she asked.
"Yeah, definitely. Just...I'm just feeling a lot right now, and I don't know how to say it." He gave her a small smile as he looked up from where he'd been staring at their hands.
"Well, then maybe you could show me," she reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his head forward very gently.
"I could do that," he said with a small smile.
He kissed her again, with purpose. He stepped even closer, so their bodies were pushed against each other. His hands were on both sides of her face, holding her as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. She ran her free hand up his back, feeling the dense muscles flex as he moved.
She was starting to feel lightheaded, and needed a breath. She pulled her head back gently, and he took the hint.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away." He looked sheepish and almost embarrassed.
"No, that's perfectly fine. I just couldn't breathe," and she chuckled. "Plus, I guess we're out here in your driveway for God and all your neighbors to see."
"Yeah, we should stop." He still had his hands on the sides of her face and he was looking into her eyes. "Even though I really don't want to." He gave her one more quick kiss before dropping his hands and totally stepping back.
She dropped her hands to her sides and took another deep breath. "To be continued?" She couldn't believe she said that, but she really loved the thought of continuing what they were doing, but in private.
"Yeah." It sounded like a low growl. "Definitely to be continued."
She felt her face get hot, and she turned and walked to her car. As she opened her door, she looked at him. She made a split-second decision and hurried back, giving him a quick hug, before hurrying to her car, getting in, and shutting the door.
He had been caught off guard when she hugged him, not even hugging her in return. But as she began to back out of the driveway, he waved and gave her a warm smile. As she started down the street, she saw him wave again. She gave him an enthusiastic wave out her window, before driving on. Then she took an even bigger breath and let it out slowly. Wow, that was fun.
She was already wondering when she could see him again, and he was thinking the same thing as he walked on into his house.
Over the next month or so, things stayed about the same between them. They would meet for lunch once or twice a week. They would get together at least one time over the weekend. They'd either go out to eat, or to a movie, or to play putt-putt golf.
Wren was really enjoying the time with him, and she thought he seemed to feel the same way. But she was starting to wonder if it was time to move things forward a little bit. They kissed quite a bit. They had what she would call make-out sessions whenever they were at her place. Usually if they'd gone out somewhere, when he took her home, he'd go in for a little bit and they'd sit on the couch together, talking. And kissing. And snuggling. It was better than Wren could have hoped for.
But it was getting harder for her to stop. She didn't know if he felt the same. He didn't push to go further though. They'd never gotten as far as they did the night they were at 99's. But she started daydreaming a lot about how she might bring up the subject to him. She didn't think she was ready to have sex with him. As much as she wanted to, she just knew she wasn't ready for that. But she wanted to try what they'd already done at least. But how do you bring that up? She was so nervous.
It seemed natural the night they stayed at 99's. Because they were already in bed together. But how do you get from making out on the couch, to in bed, without just saying, do you want to go to bed. And she didn't know if she could say those actual words.
Then one Thursday night Wren was watching TV, and she heard a text come in. She looked, and it was from Hunter. She felt a little jolt of excitement run through her.
H: Hey! Do you have plans tomorrow night?
W: You're funny. Do I ever unless you're involved? 😉
H: Well...Omega is gonna be spending the night with a friend, so I don't need to be home at any certain time...
W: Oh really?
H: Yeah...I was wondering if maybe we could do something...like watch TV and hang out or something...
W: Yeah, I'd love to! Maybe we could get pizza?
H: Sounds good...I can bring the pizza with me when I come.
W: Okay, just come over whenever you want to. I'll be here all night, of course. 😊
H: Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Lookin' forward to it.
W: Me too. ♥
She was so excited at first...he could be there as late as he wanted!
But then she really thought about it...he could be there as late as he wanted...how long would he want?
Did he mean he wanted to spend the night? Is that what he was saying?
As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she felt the heat begin in her chest and spread throughout her body, up into her face. She had to take off her hoodie and throw her blanket off her legs. She always got a flash of heat when her anxiety hit.
What was going to happen? She was immediately nauseous. The thought of Hunter spending the night made her almost giddy with happiness. But also so nervous she felt like she might pass out.
It was going to be a long 24 hours until he came over for pizza, a movie, and...whatever else he had in mind. She could barely concentrate on anything, so she just decided to go to bed early. She would want to get up earlier in the morning, so she had time to do a thorough job of shaving and grooming. Just in case.
Just in case what? Even thinking about that made her scared as hell. She re-read the text conversation at least 10 times before she finally fell asleep.
Friday arrived, and Wren's anxiety was through the roof. She did take extra time in the shower to shave and trim. Just in case. Just in case... Good lord, she didn't know if she could do this. Whatever this ended up being.
Time at work creeped by. She kept getting startled by her coworkers, because she was in her own little world. The world where she might actually have sex tonight. With Hunter.
Did she want to? Was she ready? They'd been seeing each other for 6 months at that point. They'd made out quite a bit the past month. But anytime she thought she might be ready to go further, her anxiety got the better of her. Hunter didn't act like he minded.
Her head started to spin and her vision started to gray out when she thought about him coming over later on.
After work, she went home and cleaned the bathroom, not knowing if he would be using the shower, and ran the vacuum in the living room and bedroom.
At 6:00 she got a text.
H: I'm leaving home now. I'm going to pick up the pizza then come on over. Should be there in less than half an hour.
W: Okay, looking forward to it.
And that wasn't a lie. She was looking forward to it, she just didn't add that she was also a nervous wreck.
About 20 minutes later she heard Hunter's truck pull into the parking lot. Then within a minute she heard a knock on her door.
She took a deep breath, got up, and unlocked the door. She opened it and stepped to the side so he could carry in the pizza box and some sodas.
When Omega asked him if she could spend the night with Hera, Hunter said yes without giving it much thought. It certainly wasn't the first time.
It wasn't until about 15 minutes later that the thought hit him...it would be Friday night. He didn't have to work the next day. And neither did Wren.
At the thought, he smiled. He wouldn't need to be home when Omega went to bed. She was old enough that she didn't need him to tuck her in, but he could tell she still enjoyed it. He wanted to be able to experience that as much as possible, before she got too old and didn't want him to anymore.
Plus he wasn't ready to explain why he didn't come home from Wren's. So this would be the perfect opportunity. He just wasn't sure for what.
After they were done eating and were watching a movie, Hunter was on the couch with Wren's head in his lap. He had been running his fingers through her hair for the past 15 minutes, and she was close to falling asleep.
They hadn't discussed what was going to happen tonight beyond the movie.
They watched The Princess Bride (Wren's choice, because it's her go-to movie when she's stressed.) After that was over, they watched a little bit of the Great British Bake Off channel. That was just so they would have something to watch, because neither of them wanted to move from the spot yet.
At around 10:00, Hunter made a big show out of stretching both his arms and making a loud yawning sound.
"I'm so tired!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, it was a hard day today."
"Well, did you want to go to home?" Then she paused, and he could tell she was struggling with something. "Or...did you want to go to bed...here?"
Hunter looked at her, really looked at her, enough that she felt like she needed to look away, because the eye contact was so intense.
He quietly said, "What would you like me to do?"
She replied, "What would you like to do? Or maybe a better question is what would you like me to like you to do?"
He looked at her with a little bit of confusion, then broke into a smile.
He shook his head as he said, "Wren, you are something else." He chuckled and went back to "petting" her hair.
She tried to swallow away the lump in her throat and calm her pounding heart. "Well...I don't know what to say. I think I would like for you to stay. But I also know myself, and I know I might get a little freaked out at some point. And I don't want you to have to deal with that."
He said, "What do you mean? Deal with what?"
"Deal with me getting scared and anxious and possibly having an anxiety attack and getting dizzy...all that good stuff you've had to deal with for six months, but this might be a whole 'nother level."
"Hey, come here." With that he lightly tugged on her arms to let her know he wanted her to sit up with him. She did and leaned into his side with her head on his chest and his arms around her waist.
He laid his cheek on top of her head. "Wren. I would like to spend the night here. With you. But I can sleep on the couch if you'd prefer. Or I can sleep in the bed, but not touch you at all. Or I can touch you, but stop at whatever point you want to. It is totally up to you. But I would really like to stay. I want to be able to wake up in the morning and see you first thing. It's my favorite thing. Whether it's next to me in bed, or from my spot here on the couch. Whatever you are comfortable with."
How could she say no to such a sweet request? She felt like her heart was about to explode, she cared for him so much. She was pretty sure she even loved him, but hadn't actually said that out loud yet (or even truly admitted it in her own head.)
And it's not like they hadn't slept in the same bed before. They did it 2 nights at 99's. That still seemed different though. There were 6 other people in the house at that time. She knew they had to be careful and quiet. But now, they were in her apartment all by themselves. And they could be all night.
She finally said, "Okay, I'd like you to stay. And I'd like you to sleep in bed with me. I'm not sure about any other stuff though. I definitely know I'm not ready to have sex yet, so I don't want to seem like a tease. Is it being a tease if I want you to sleep with me, but not really sleep 'with' me?"
"Wren, you are the furthest thing from a tease. Don't worry about that. I know you're not ready for sex yet. And to be honest, I'm not sure I am either. Things haven't gone all that well for me in that area in the past, and I'd rather not push anything."
At that, he turned his head and kissed the top of hers. "That being said, I do love the thought of more cuddles. All night."
She looked up at him with a smile, and he had the sweetest, most gentle look on his face. She said, "I would love some cuddles. Let's go."
As she stood up, she looked around and said, "Did you bring an overnight bag?"
He said, "Well, I didn't want to presume..."
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.
"...but I do have it out in the truck."
She laughed and smacked him on the arm. "So you were just going to go home if I didn't ask you to stay?"
"Yeah, definitely. I don't want to pressure you about anything."
She stepped closer to him, and put her arms around his waist. She looked in his eyes, then at his lips, and back to his eyes. He smiled and they moved towards each other for the softest kiss.
But then his arms went around her waist and pulled her as close as he could. He kissed her again. And again. And again. It was as if he couldn't stop. They both started quietly laughing against each other's lips. After one more kiss, she pulled back enough to look at him and said, "Maybe you should go get your bag."
"Okay, I'll go get my bag." And he kissed her once more before letting her loose and walking towards the door. She watched him walk out, and reached up to touch her lips with her fingers.
When he came back inside, he locked the door behind him. He said, "I thought I would use the bathroom, brush my teeth, change clothes, and all that. Is that okay?"
"Sure, sounds good."
Hunter walked down the hall into the bathroom and shut the door. Wren followed him but went into the bedroom at the end of the hall. She found the clothes she sleeps in and changed into them quickly.
She heard the sink water turn off, then the door opened, and Hunter walked on down the hall to the bedroom. He was wearing some gray sweat pants. And no shirt. Seeing his muscles like that again was a little overwhelming. He wasn't overly large, but he was in really good shape. He just looked strong. And he had actual abs. He didn't look starved though, he had a thin layer of cushion over his mid-section, but she could still see those abs underneath.
She really tried not to stare, but he caught her looking anyway. He smiled a little as he put his bag down on the floor. He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Good, really good", she answered. She laid her head on his bare chest and could feel the soft hair against her cheek. He smelled like cinnamon toothpaste.
He pulled her tightly against him. The friction against her breasts made her nipples stiffen. When she pulled away to walk to the bathroom, she saw him looking at her chest.
"Hunter, did I just find out you're a breast man?"
He laughed, "Well with you, it's a hard choice between your tits and your ass!"
She laughed as she walked away, "Oh listen to that sweet talk." She went on into the bathroom and could see in the mirror her face was flushed red. Of course it was!
She took a few deep breaths. Then she brushed her teeth, and finished her nightly routine. She opened the door, shut off the light, and went back to the bedroom. Hunter was laying in the bed with the sheet pulled up around his chest. She figured he could see the disappointment on her face when she saw he was partially covered this time.
He patted the open side of the bed while looking at her. She turned off the light and the room was mostly dark except for the shining of the outside lights coming in the window. She went to the bed, and crawled in next to him, but without touching him. Not yet. She was on her right side, looking at him. And he was on his left side looking at her.
"Well..." he said.
"Well..." she replied.
Then they both laughed again.
Hunter said, "Okay, let's not make a big deal out of this, okay?"
"Yeah."
"We're just sleeping in the same bed, that's it. We've already done that. Twice."
"Yup." But we're here alone this time, she thought to herself. That's the difference.
Wren then said a little timidly, "Wanna spoon?"
"I would love to."
So she turned over and then scooted herself back towards him. He scooted himself closer to her, until his chest was pressed against her back, and his head was above hers but still on the edge of his pillow. His breath blew lightly on her hair, and he put his right arm over and around her waist. He pulled her even closer, as close as she could be.
She felt...loved.
She moved her top leg towards her side of the bed just a bit more, and he was able to lay his leg in between hers, so they intertwined a bit. She could feel his penis in his sweatpants, but it wasn't hard. She would try not to move her hips around too much so she didn't accidentally stir him up. She didn't want to be a tease. Even if he knew she didn't mean to be, his body might not understand.
Once they were settled, he sighed and she felt a big breath on her head. She took her right hand and reached behind her a little to touch his thigh. She rubbed it lightly, just wanting to feel him beneath her hand. His free arm was under her pillow, so she moved her left hand under there as well, and held his hand.
Even though she was nervous, she was also so happy. This was a huge step for her, and she was able to do it. Maybe her heart would stop racing at some point.
She was honestly exhausted. The worry of the day had caught up to her, and she could feel her body finally relaxing and making her sleepier. She didn't know how long before she fell asleep, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or two.
To be Continued...
Tag List: (Let me know if you'd like removed, it won't hurt my feelings!)
Commander Wolffe 🐺 He wouldn’t “pose” on a crate as it's a waste of his precious time, so that’s everything I got and I have to be thankful for it.
He wasn't easy to draw! The Commander grumbled and moved all the time and as I dared complaining, I got the death stare. But he stayed like a the champ he is.
Close up on Commander Gruff for the better feeling of being judged. Properly. Bare with me!
I’m having a hard time currently, I wish I had more capacity for art shenanigans and free time projects 🫠
What if Tech originally added the translator to his visor because he has auditory processing issues and he needs live subtitles when situations are critical.
Relationships: Force-sensitive Earthling OC Choy/ series of canon and OC clones and maybe some others
Synopsis: Star Wars isekai. Post Anaxes season 7 clone wars timeline with flashbacks to early war events.
Warnings: mild barely spice, suggestive dialogue, angst, kissing, trust, hurt, confusion, see masterlist for full fic warnings
Some songs: ‘Come Undone’ by Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan, ‘The Garden’ by PJ Harvey
Choy slouched on the plush exam table in the pleasant room clutching at her heart, feeling the ache there and the wrongness in her mind. The chief healer of the Jedi temple, the blue Twilek, Vokara Che, had insisted that Choy remove this wrongness, some sort of dark force memory block, herself— mostly a disaster from the start. Choy’s fumbled attempt at its removal left her bone tired, wrung out, with a sense she was missing someone bigger than she ever realized and the image of the place she left him, and others, behind. A harsh, red world with dangerous things. And, maybe worst of all, it left her with the knowledge that she’d believed the lies of one of the most twisted and evil people she’d been kept by. It was all exhausting. And now she had to face more. Trials, observed interactions.
She had parted from Choy’s side to consult the blinking comm panel on the wall. There were, it informed her, eleven clone troopers assembled in the east receiving hall. Some she'd have on file as Choy's. Most she would not — fresh faces brought in precisely because they were fresh. Men the woman had never met, so that the Council could watch what happened in the Force when a stranger walked into her orbit. The trials. The measuring of her effect, specimen and instrument both, under supervision, for the record.
Vokara looked at the woman bent over the edge of her examination table — sleepless, starved, days out of a suppression collar, and now sobbing through the fresh wound of a vast memory that had been drawn out and crammed back in within the same minute— and felt the last of her patience with the Council burn cleanly away. She set her jaw. Chief Healer or not, there were only so many times she could plant herself in their road before they found a way around her. But she would do it now, for Choy. Even if it cost her later.
"Sael," Vokara said to her pastel green hued assistant, “send word to the Council. The trials are postponed. Indefinitely, and on my authority — write it exactly that way, on the authority of the Chief Healer, so there's no question whose name it's under." She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. "No assessments of this patient's effect on anyone. No strangers. She is not an instrument to be calibrated. She is a woman who has been treated as one for two years by people far less scrupulous than this Council likes to imagine itself, and I will not let the Order make it three."
Sael's mouth twitched. "They won't like it."
"They may take it up with me. They will lose." Vokara turned back to the com panel. "Send the unfamiliar ones home. But the ones who are hers —" she paused at the threshold of prescribing the very thing the Council was so concerned with — "the ones who came because they care what happens to her, not because they were ordered to. Those you may let in. One at a time, gently. Not to be tested. To sit with her."
They let Splint in first.
Vokara felt it before the door fully opened — felt the room change. The clone came in fast and worried, holding himself like a guard that had heard his charge was hurt, and the moment he crossed the threshold into Choy's orbit something in the Force eased, like a held note resolving. She watched it with her healer's senses wide open and understood, finally and completely, what the Council had been too frightened to sit still long enough to see. The void in the woman reached for the manufactured man and the manufactured man came home to it, and the dark thing the Jedi had named damage did, to him, the precise opposite of damage: it steadied him, settled him, gave a being built to be expended a place to simply be. Refuge. Exactly as she'd felt it. Splint knew her, plainly, knew her in his hands and his eyes the second he saw her.
— standard recall, she noted in her data pad, holds without prompting —
and he had her gathered up against him before he'd said a word.
Kix was different, and Choy had clearly been waiting for it.
He came in behind Splint and he stopped, and for a moment his face did a small, lost thing — looked at Choy, this woman everyone was clustered around, and found nothing, no recognition, a polite stranger's puzzlement. Vokara saw the exact instant of it and saw Choy see it too, and saw the practiced way the woman absorbed the small fresh knife of being unknown by a man she'd shared a bed with.
"Watch," Choy said quietly to Vokara. She reached out and laid her hand against Kix's jaw.
Vokara, senses open, felt it travel — felt the contact close a circuit, felt the memory of her flood back into the clone the way blood comes back into a limb that fell asleep, that same pins-and-needles rush — and watched Kix's whole face change, the stranger's politeness expanding into knowing then collapsing into shame, his hand coming up to cover hers against his cheek, his breath going ragged.
"There you are," Kix said, wrecked. "Gods. I did it again, didn't I. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I keep —"
"I know." Choy's thumb moved along his cheekbone. "It's all right. I'm used to it. You always come back."
Touch restores, Vokara wrote, near-total lapse between contacts, recovery instantaneous and complete on physical contact. It was the cleanest demonstration of an impossible thing she had ever been handed, performed by a patient who, though anguished, made her own erasure into a teaching case so that someone, finally, would have it on the record.
Jace came last, and did not come all the way in.
He stood in the doorway, and Vokara's attention snagged on him at once, because where Splint was all uncomplicated devotion and Kix all relief, Jace was a snarl — a man at war with himself in the Force, pulled hard toward her and braced just as hard against the pull, want and fear and something that looked like guilt all knotted together and held rigid. He looked at Choy like a man looking at a fire on a cold night, wanting the warmth and certain it would take his hand off. He did not cross the threshold. He gripped the doorframe instead as the trio of Sable, Pitch and Dusk crowded into the room and stood around Choy with the others.
Vokara filed that too, and said nothing, and resolved to think about it later, when she could think — if she could still keep what she'd thought.
She turned back to Choy who was in so many arms she looked quite small now in the midst of five large men. “You lost me a little bit, earlier," Choy said, head leaning on the first, wrung out and matter-of-fact. "When you moved away. You lost your place. I watched it happen."
"Yes." There was no use pretending to a patient this observant. "I had a conclusion. A good one, the right word for what you are, and I walked four steps and it — went soft. I have built a life on not doing that." Choy looked worried, and she was- she had been counting on Vokara to be one who remembered her. "I am not going to forget you," Vokara said, and Choy was unsettled to hear that she meant it as a vow against something rather than a statement of fact.
"You will," Choy said, gently, without cruelty and glancing at Kix. "But you'll remember again. That's the best anyone gets who forgets me. I've made my peace with it." She hadn't, quite; Vokara could hear that she hadn't. But she let it stand, because the woman had let her theories stand all morning, and fair was fair.
For now she let the room be what it had become: full of her patient's people, the strangers turned away at the door, the testing called off, the Council's clock stopped on her say-so. Choy sat, glowing faintly, in the middle of it with Splint's arm around her and Kix's hand in hers and a far off place full of people held tight behind her ribs, grieving and relieved and not alone. Glowing. Vokara made a note to address this later.
"Rest," Vokara had said after dismissing the clones to wait for her. "Food. Your own people. Nothing asked of you. No Council, no strangers, no demands, until I say otherwise — and I won't say otherwise tomorrow either."
It was, Choy thought, the single best thing anyone had said to her in two years. She slipped off her perch on the table and smoothed down her tunic and belt and hair. and she nearly laughed out loud at the look on her own face reflected in the dark scanner housing — wrecked, blotchy, and lit up like a kid handed a snow day.
Because here was the thing: her rest had a pulse to it. Lying alone in a quiet room was not rest; that was where the collar had kept her, where the tank had kept her, where she'd learned that stillness was a thing done to you. Rest, for her, was people. Warm bodies and being wanted and the particular animal quiet that came after, when somebody's heartbeat was under her ear and nobody in the galaxy needed anything from her. Just the thought of the afternoon ahead of her, of being allowed to go with them and stay, kindled something in her chest she'd thought Skako and then Echo had guttered for good. The pilot flame was coming back and steady.
Vokara was watching her with an expression that said she'd read every bit of that off her face and was unsurprised by all of it. "I know what rest means to you," the healer said, dry as sand. "I'm a physician, not a fool, and you are not subtle. For the record, I have no objection. A body that spent two years as someone's property reclaiming itself through pleasure it chooses is good medicine, not bad — better than anything I've got in a cabinet." She held up one finger. “Just mind that those men out there are fragile too, days out of the agonizer and made to not have choices in matters, and you need to make sure they are choosing for themselves and not going along because the kindest thing they ever—“
“I know,” Choy said, flat, prickly. “I know that better than just about anyone. And I have a lot more to say about why that concern is bullshi— the wrong shape, but not today. I’m too damn tired.”
Vokara looked at her a moment, glanced at Sael who was pointedly not looking at her through the purple visor she wore, and let it go. She could tell a bigger conversation was on the tip of Choy’s tongue but she was right, now wasn’t the time. Instead she nodded to the place Jace had lingered at the doorway.
“That one, he’s different from the others. I trust you will mind how closely you stand to him.”
“I’ve got Jace,” Choy said, already crossing the room to where Ashu was standing waiting to take her to the dining hall. “He’s got his dragons, but I know how to be careful with those.” Choy’s stomach growled and she stifled a yawn. Right now I’m going to carefully go eat before I fall over.”
“Then go,” Vokara said. Watching as Choy stretched and let her force connection blaze a moment before banking it back down and heading out, arm in arm with Ashu.
Vokara turned to her notes once again, Patient demonstrates force modulation- fine control and contemplated the conversation Choy shelved for later. It would keep till she ate and slept and basked with her people.
The refectory was filling with people already. It didn’t seem to Choy like she’d been in Vokara’s office that long but her stomach disagreed. Ashu had led her out of the office to the waiting knot of identical men who all turned at once to circle her and greet her and walk her in their midst to lunch. Kix made sure to lecture her on needing to eat- protein especially. Kitu said that today they would be serving a decent soup and some flat breads popular with the omnivores. Ashu elbowed him and said he likes bread as much as an Ithorian. They led her to the usual table and Choy slipped onto the bench next to Splint. Kix disappeared with Sable and his men and Ashu. Kitu remained and with a stern look got Jace to follow to the food lines.
Splint remained with Choy leaning against him. She was too exhausted to care about the furtive glances and conversations behind hands around the room. Splint looked down at her. “You ok?”
She sighed, “better than ok, and not ok, if that makes any sense.”
He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed circles on her hip. “Yeah, I’ve been there before.”
Kix returned and set a bowl of something brothy and a flatbread in front of her. And sat next to her with his own. “Just start with this and see how you feel.”
“I can bring you anything else if you’d like,” Sable said as he sat.
“Thank you,” she said as the others returned. Someone set a whole tray of things in front of Splint.
She ate. it was a strange thing to be unused to, eating at her own pace, with companions and not alone. The boys joked and Ashu and Kitu laughed at their impressions of some Jedi general no one seemed to like. She nibbled at her bread and sipped the broth until her body remembered the drill and she decided to try something more. At which point Kix set down a heavier dish of a kind of mild curry with meat. She enjoyed this despite its lackluster flavor. She laughed with the boys at another joke and caught Jace's eyes. she didn’t look away immediately, just let him see she noticed him noticing her. He watched her laugh with the expression she’d learned to read- the wanting and the afraid of the wanting all braided tight together. When she looked away from him she caught a glimpse of remorse.
By the time she finished and was scraping her bowl she’d relaxed by several degrees and was no longer holding herself like she was bracing to be summoned. Her mind turned to next. She didn’t feel like holeing herself up in her room and, besides, the boys wouldn’t all fit in there. And she wanted to stay with all of them. She looked around the table and an idea formed.
“Guys,” she said, standing up, “come with me, I want to show you something.”
The gardens soared up and sprawled every which way. Light filtered through leaves, fruit hung from branches and water trickled and rushed, eager and bright, before spilling into calm pools full of flashing fishes.
Choy had led them in. Ashu and Kitu lingered at the entrance to let them have their time together. And the boys were all doing what she had done the day before— marveling at the scale of the place and the beauty, their eyes darting like they weren’t sure they were allowed to be there. Then breathing deeper, their shoulders loosening by the inch.
“They built this place,” she said, “and then act like it’s just for meditating.” she reached up and plucked two yellow, thin skinned fruits from the tree she was under and tossed them at Kix and Splint. Kix caught and held his like he’d have to somehow give it back to the tree. Splint immediately bit into his, taking her word for things right away. His face changed as the flavor hit his tongue.
She watched as the prospect of freely given fruit and a day to eat it slowly dawned on the men. Sable walked a few steps and turned his face up to the sunlight and listened to the far off rush of the space’s main waterfall. Pitch swung up into a tree and looked surprised at himself but stayed in it. Dusk leaned against a large stone and let out a breath he seems to have been holding since Kamino. She thought about going over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder but didn’t. He seemed to need nothing except the silent permission to stay.
And Jace. Choy could feel his eyes on her and of course he was back at the edge. She felt that he desperately wanted this, and it terrified him. Not the fruit, not the garden either. The bright sweet weight of something alive. Her. She reached up and plucked the most perfectly ripe fruit of the bunch and walked it over to him and held it out.
An offering, something sweet, something alive that he could take from her without taking her. A choice. Without having to trust himself. He stared at her and she figured she’d just leave the fruit on the stone nearby, when he reached out muscle by muscle and wrapped his hand around it, fingers brushing her wrist, and drew it back to himself.
“They’re good,” she said. “And they don’t make you fight for it.”
He looked at her for a long moment and nodded. He took a bite and she watched his face change too. That slow, surprising softening. Good, she thought and left him to it. She turned and walked into the heart of the garden, into the light. And she knew without turning around that he’d followed.
She led them deeper in. Following the path along little rivulets and chuckling streams to the pond she’d found before. To the patch of grass that she felt so at home on and sat down. She could hear Pitch up in a tree tossing fruit down to Dusk. Sable had found a place on the far side of the pond to sit and trail his hand through the water. Splint was stretching in the sun and Kix wandered over and helped him crack his back in a bear hug.
And Jace lingered in the dappled shade. Choy leaned back on her hands and closed her eyes, feeling the grass underneath and the warm sun above. She could hear footsteps and shuffling as they approached and stopped then retreated a little and finally crossed in three long strides to a spot an arms length away and sat down. She knew it was Jace just from the tension he was radiating, she didn’t turn and look.
“Is —Can I? Is this ok?” He asked, voice a little rough.
Choy glanced at him. He didn’t have the fruit anymore and he occupied his hands with a blade of the grass. She kept hers where they were, in the grass where she leaned on them.
“Yeah,” she said. “This is good.”
Not too far away Kix looked over at them and read the lines of a brother struggling. He elbowed Splint and inclined his head in their direction. Splint gave a high sign to Sable across the pond who got up and went over to Pitch and Dusk’s tree.
“Oy, let’s go see if this place’s got a fresher,” Sable said, loud enough to carry. Pitch hung down from where he had been reaching for a cluster of fruit. “Just go find—“ and he turned and looked where Sable was hiking his thumb towards. “Oh, yeah,” Pitch swung down out of the tree, “fresher, yep I could do with some freshing,” he said with a stretch, “Dusk, let’s go.” And the whole lot of them cleared out.
A nervousness practically fizzed off of Jace and Choy let him sit and feel his own edges without reaching for them or saying anything to smooth them out. She kept her force connection damped down and to herself. He was quiet for a minute and she let him be quiet. She watched the bright little fish in the water and let him find the words for whatever he’d come close to say.
“I don’t know how to do this.” He blurted, like it had taken up too much space in his mouth. “There’s no manual for it. For you. For any of it.”
“I know,” she said, still looking at the fish.
“I want things I don't know if I should want.” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Because I don’t know if it’s me wanting or if it’s just —you.”
She was the center of the very argument that had given Jace this particular notion that he had no autonomy in his choices. That was the entire premise the republic accepted its clone army on. That they were less than human. It was insidious and had even sunk its claws in her last night.
“Jace, the Jedi last night— they’re wrong. What I do, near as I can tell, is amplify what’s already in someone. You clones have autonomy but also programming to not, like, want for yourself. I just bring out that want from under the programming. You become more of who you are around me. But it’s all you, I don’t put anything there.”
Jace regarded the bit of grass in his fingers and looked sidelong at her. “You aren’t buying it. Let’s do this.” She turned more fully to face him. “Right now I’m connected to the force. Notice how you feel. And now—“ she banked her connection down to nothing, to where she’d said she wouldn’t stay again. “This is just me, no force, no effect through it at all. Less even than any regular person.”
Jace had felt her go, felt the warm comfort of her presence enveloping him snuff out like the flame of a candle pinched between fingers. He flinched, the absence felt uncanny, like he’d been slapped. But what he felt in himself was still there, still sitting and aching in his chest. Still the treasonous little voice that said he could steal her away from the war and he could have her in ways he’d kept at bay in his imagination for days now.
“I still feel you,” he said, hoarse like it dragged out of him, “I can still—you’re still there.”
“Okay,” she said, banking the tight bright swell of joy in her chest, “data point number one.”
“Data point?” he repeated, still dazed and not quite sure what had happened.
“Yes data, proof of concept,” she said, “The reason you want me is you,” she reached out carefully and slowly and set her hand over his in the grass, “not the thing I do. You, Jace.”
He looked down at her hand over his and stilled, turning over the idea, testing it like he’d test ground he wasn’t sure would hold. Then turned his palm up, lacing his fingers in hers. “I want you,” he said wonderingly to her face, her eyes, her lips, lower. And she watched it land, “I want you and— and it’s mine.”
“Yeah,” she said a little shakily, “it is.” And she leaned in very slowly and very carefully and kissed him. It was slow and gentle. A hand to his jaw and a hitch of breath at the back of her throat and breath against each other's faces as he kissed her back and worked his lips against hers. Slowly, with a sense that they had time to draw this out and make this right. No war in him against the want. No all-consuming desire like she was another battlefield and passion was his weapon. Just two people in the quiet peace between the chaos.
They eventually broke apart, foreheads against each other, breathing in sync. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on his warmth, his solidness and realness. And not on how much she was holding back for him.
“Okay?” She asked. Whispered into the little space between them.
“Okay, better than,” he whispered back.
She huffed a tiny laugh and felt him smile against her cheek.
“There you are,” he said, pulling back to look at her sparkling eyes then diving in to kiss her again.
This one had heat. She let him deepen it. His hand found her hair and laced through it while hers found the back of his neck. The kiss went from something soft to something with weight and he turned her and bore gently her down onto the grass.
“Is this ok?” He paused to ask against her lips, his body frozen for her answer.
“Yes,” she breathed back.
He relaxed slightly, the hard line of his body along hers and caressed her face noting the slight furrow in her brow, an underlying tension in her frame. Just as he was about to ask if anything was wrong she sighed.
“Jace, I need— I can’t stay like this. All the way cut off in the force. It’s not good for me and I’ve been practicing keeping it turned down but not off. Is it alright- or do you need to back up? I promise not to blast you.”
He watched her eyes grow worried and it struck him as he understood all at once what she had done for him— turning herself off in a way that hurt her for his sake. To show him his own want and individuality was cleanly his. And now she was asking his permission to stop. He didn’t have words for what that did to him. “Do what you need, I'll be ok,”he said, brushing a stray hair away from her eye.
She relaxed and closed her eyes, her brow unfurrowed and she let it back in. Let the force fill her and flow from her, just faintly first, then more.
He felt it, felt her come back, the Choy that nearly took his legs out from under him that first day and braced to be swept away in her pull like before— but it never came. He could feel the warmth, the coming home, but under it he still felt himself, separate, his own person in her current. The relief of keeping his own footing, his solid foundation that he could truly support her from went through him catching his breath. The off had let him notice his own center, his compass that he’d felt tangled in hers since his own healing.
“Mmmm,” she hummed with relief. “Is that ok?”
He let himself feel a fresh wave of confidence settle in him. “More than ok,” he said, low and steady. “I think I can handle this,” his eyes darkened and he shifted over her more. “I’d like to handle this- handle you.” He braced himself over her, caging but holding the parts he’d really like to handle her with just above her and kissed her again. Relishing the flare he felt off of her as his magnetic longing rolled off of him and took her breath away. She wrapped her arms around him, slotted a leg between his and was about to pull his body flush to hers when the sound of voices carried over to them from behind a hedge.
“…that’s her? That’s the one?”
Choy panicked and willed the force around herself and Jace to disappear, to make them something the eye rolled off of.
“That’s her. The Skako thing Skywalker brought back. You know what they say about her and the clones.”
The voices were closing in and their footsteps were louder.
“I heard she has her hooks in half the 501st. That she gets in their heads somehow, some dark side glamor. One has to question how much their loyalty is hers now.”
The first voice laughed low and ugly, “Can’t blame the bastards, have you seen her? It’s unnatural. You’d think the order would just put her down rather than let her breed with the livestock.”
Choy felt it go through Jace like a current. His want didn’t stop- it flared, sending a thrill through her, and curdled into something white hot within him. And stars help her, for a second it answered something within her, to be wanted like that, all the way, with nothing held back- to feel a man come apart against her at full volume. The flood went both ways for a breath and she was drunk on it, on the heat of the very thing she should have been careful of.
“Quiet, someone will hear—,“ said the first voice.
The voices dropped to a murmur and the figures disappeared down the path around the trees never knowing what they’d just walked past.
She felt how rigid Jace had gone over her. His breath sawing out of him, hand fisted in the grass by her head. He wanted her, he wanted to put himself between her and them. And for one ugly second he wanted to put his hands on the voice that said the line about livestock, his impulse to destroy braided with the heat he felt for her and had nowhere else to go. It was all the same surge and Choy felt him feel how little space there was in him between the tender and the terrible.
And she came back to herself fast and ashamed.
She forced herself to stop cloaking and he rolled himself to the side, breathing hard. Choy withdrew herself in the force. Stopped throwing gasoline on the intoxicating fire in Jace and cooled into the ordinary woman from before. She reached for him.
“Don’t.” His breath shook. He let the tremor of his self control begin to still before trusting his voice. “Don’t let me when I’m like this. When I can’t tell if I want you or want—,” the words didn’t come, “that’s what I’m really afraid of.”
“I’m sorry,” she propped herself on an elbow and smoothed a hand along Jace's arm. “That was all me, I hid us. Like invisible, so they couldn’t see and had to turn it all the way up for that. And then they said… that, and I had you wrapped in every bit of me at the worst possible time.” She tried catching his gaze. “That wasn’t you being a monster that was me pinning you inside my bubble and— I should have stopped just as soon as they walked away. I’m sorry.”
She sat up and hugged her knees looking out at the fish flashing in the pond. She’d thought the garden had been hers. Which was the stupid part. And the voices just walked right through her little golden hour saying the quiet part out loud. It’s unnatural. Some dark side glamour. Livestock. It shouldn’t have hit as hard, she’d heard worse. But there was something about hearing it here, in her lovely afternoon on the grass that felt like home. That’s what sat heaviest.
“They don't even know me,” she said, running her fingers over the grass. “But I can’t stop being the strange thing even in here.”
“They’re cowards,” Jace said. “Talking like that behind a hedge where they thought no one can hear. People sure of themselves say it to your face.” He turned a small flat stone over in his fingers. Put it down. Livestock. “They look at you and see a thing. That collects us. But I know what you do— you pulled four of us out of agony and healed many more. You gave me a fruit. And you never ask for anything back.” His jaw worked. “If that’s what’s got its hooks in us, then good. Sink them in deeper. I’d rather belong to that than to the men who own us now.”
Choy looked at him. He was staring at the water, with a darkness in his face and a strain in his neck like saying all that had cost him something.
“And if they think you’re strange so what. You’re the only one here who’s ever asked me what I wanted. Or any of us.” He turned and looked at her, the protective heat banked down and gentle. “What I don’t want is for you to disappear and—,” he reached out to push a grass-mussed lock of hair behind her ear, “please don’t put it down. Not with me. Don’t shrink and hide for my sake. I like where I can find you.”
Her eyes stung. She let them and let a corner of her mouth twitch up. “That was almost a whole speech.”
He smirked, “Don’t get used to it.” But he didn’t take his hand away.
She turned fully to him and wound herself around him, looping her arms around his neck, until she was pressed against the whole solid line of him again. “For the record,” she murmured, her mouth near his ear, you can sink your hook into me any time you like. As deep as you want.” She felt the breath go out of him. “I’m not exactly fighting it.”
“Choy,” Jace breathed, half warning, half plea. All of it gone husky. His hands clutched at her waist.
“Mmm, just clarifying the terms,” she said, grinning against his jaw.
New voices and movement caught her attention on the far side of the garden. She huffed. “This level has terrible privacy. We could go up there to a waterfall terrace or even better, somewhere with an actual door.”
The word door knocked something loose in her memory. A tall elegant doorway, cool blue illumination, desks and data and old books and— the archives.
“Oh—Pavi.” Choy sat up fast and straight from the kiss Jace aiming at her lips. “I told her I’d see her at the archives after lunch. I totally forgot.” She looked at Jace with an idea. “Come with me and meet her.”
“Who’s Pavi,” he asked, still recalibrating from her abrupt change in temper.
“Pavi,” she said, getting up to her feet and pulling at his hand. “Is a clone-thirsty librarian.” She grinned up at him, “She’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
“A what?” He asked, staring at her brushing off grass from her knees.
